At the moment of separation I hold these times precious: lips as delicate as the sweet essence, though apart I can still taste her presence. Hips move a mirror image to a hypnotic wave, she made me a symbolic slave drunken with passion. In clear sight I behold the prophecy, now frozen in time I'm entranced by her endless gaze, Intrigued by these feelings I'm catching. Like a scene from a familiar dream, is this reality as it seems? Until we meet again these fantasies remain while the promise to return holds me sane. Only from the purest form of nature she came, blessed is the creater. At the moment of confrontation this I confess: metaphors can't express the passion I hold, or the gift of existence has proven it's purpose, so please forgive if my ways seem nervous. Feel my words as thought's of consideration spark curiosity to commence relation, for this I bear patience.